


StarDank Valley

by LittleRedWrites



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: 420, Bong Hoots, First Kisses, Immaturity, Multi, Poetry, Pranks, Recreational Drug Use, Sebastian's Bong, Shenanigans, Stardrop Toast Crunch, The Trio being idiots, implied Sam/Seb because they're the best pairing, munchies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 08:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11482950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRedWrites/pseuds/LittleRedWrites
Summary: That old abandoned Community Center is a great place to smoke weed and think up shenanigans.





	StarDank Valley

"So anyways," Sam exclaimed, gesturing wildly, "Then Haley said she didn't care that she's living next to a future rockstar, she just wanted to get some sleep, so I said-"

"Sam," Sebastian interrupted, "Pass the goddamn bong first and talk when it's not your turn."

"Oh. Right. Sorry." Sam took a long hit and immediately started coughing as he handed the bong over.

"Well, at least there's one way to shut him up." Abigail commented, earning a rude gesture from her red-faced friend.

Sebastian merely rolled his eyes as he repacked the bowl, then took his own hit, holding the smoke in for a moment and then blowing it up towards the roof of the dilapidated Community Centre.

"You know, I read somewhere that you get like, 99% of the THC at first contact, so there's no point in holding the smoke in. It's just bad for you." Abigail told him, watching the smoke rise.

"As if he cares." Sam snorted. "Sebby smokes cigarettes. And sits all day in that dark stuffy bedroom... that can't be good for your lungs."

"Sitting in my bedroom is my job, asshole." Seb replied. "We can't all work for minimum wage at Satan Corp. Besides, you're just as unhealthy as I am, chugging back that cola all the time."

Abigail sighed. "Stop arguing, twerps. You're both gross, end of story." She waved off the proffered bong. "No, I'm good. Give it to your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend." Sebastian scoffed, as Sam piped up at the same time, "Yeah, give it to me, lover."

"We should do something." Abigail announced, ignoring them. "I'm tired of listening to you two bicker. Let's prank someone."

"Yeah!" Sam said excitedly. "Like Alex. Or Lewis, he's been a real pain lately. Did I mention he told my mom that I was the one who fell in the the bushes by the clinic and squashed one? She was really mad and threatened to ground me but Harvey said it was fine. Or Haley! Did I tell you what she said to me? I was playing music and-"

"SAM!" Sebastian interrupted him. "Take your fucking bong hoot! Pass first, talk after."

Sam shut up and took his hit.

"Or we could do something nice for once." Abigail mused. "Like set up blind date or something. I've always thought that one eyed guy in the adventurer's guild seems nice. We could introduce him to Marnie."

"Gaaaaaay." Sam wheezed between coughs. Abigail glared at him.

“Right, I forgot that you guys are too immature to do nice things.” She sniffed.

“We could set Alex up with someone.” Sebastian suggested, grinning. “Like… Clint? Or Shane?”

Sam giggled, and Abigail looked speculative. “That could be good. He’s always freaking out over how macho he is. What about Elliott?”

Sebastian blew smoke towards the ceiling. “That would work. We could write a love poem and drop it off at Elliott’s house with Alex’s name on it.”

“Here, pass.” Abigail motioned towards the bong. “That’s an awesome idea. Anyone got any paper?”

“You sure, Abby?” Seb held out the bong. “I know you don’t smoke much.”

“Yeah, one more.” She grinned.

“I’ve got some paper.” Sam said, reaching in his pocket and grabbing a little notepad. “I keep it around in case song lyrics come to mind.”

“Perfect.” Sebastian grabbed it from his hand. “So we just have to think up a gay love poem, then.”

Abigail coughed, passing the bong to Sam. “I don’t do love poetry. I can only help if you want to have Alex write to Elliott about the hopelessness of existence. What about you, Sam? Don’t you spend all your time writing gay love poetry for Sebastian?”

“Hey!” Sam flushed, glancing at Sebastian. “I don’t write gay poetry. And I’m not in love with Sebastian. Because I’m not gay.” He paused. “I do know a good poem, though, I just gotta think of it.”

“Take your toke while you’re thinking.” Sebastian suggested.

Sam handed the bong over to him. “I think I’m good for a bit. Umm, okay, so it goes like this…”

Red faced, he looked up at the ceiling and recited.

“I'd rather have the thought of you  
To hold against my heart,  
My spirit to be taught of you  
With west winds blowing,  
Than all the warm caresses  
Of another love's bestowing,  
Or all the glories of the world  
In which you had no part.”

Abigail gave a low whistle. “That’s the gayest shit I’ve ever heard in my life. Did you write that?”

“Nah.” Sam looked embarrassed. “I just remembered reading it. There’s more… I can’t think of the middle stanza right now, it’s got some stuff about dreaming or something. But I remember the third stanza, if you guys wanna use it.”

“Let’s hear it.” Sebastian said, putting down the bong and picking up Sam’s note pad.

Sam looked up again. “Um…

“O lover! O my lover,  
That this should come to me!  
I'd rather have the hope of you,  
Ah, Love, I'd rather grope for you  
Within the great abyss  
Than claim another's kiss-  
Alone I'd rather go my way  
Throughout eternity.”

“You’re into some dreary gay shit, Sam.” Abigail noted. “It’s perfect, though. Let’s use it.”

“Agreed.” Sebastian said, nodding. “Repeat the first bit, Sam, and I’ll write it down.”

Sam repeated it, blushing the whole while, and Sebastian messily scrawled on the notepad.

“Okay, so we have our poem.” Abigail said, leaning back against the wall. “So should we just take it down to the beach and drop it off by Elliott’s cabin?”

“That seems like a good plan to me.” Sebastian nodded towards the bong. “You guys good? I think I am.”

“Yeah, same.” Sam yawned. “Let’s go get some snacks on our way down to the beach. I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving, Sam.” Abigail said, pushing herself up. “That being said, I could go for a snack. What time is it?”

Sam checked his watch. “About five thirty. We’ve been here over an hour.”

“Good, Dad should have closed up, then. Let’s go pillage some food from the shop.”

Sebastian tucked the bong behind a crate, and the red-eyed trio exited the boiler room of the abandoned Community Center, smoke billowing through the door. A small, round green shape bumped into a wall and then fell back giggling to itself, but nobody noticed. 

Pierre had headed back into the house, and the three friends went to work raiding the general store for snacks. Abigail rang up the cookies, crackers, soda, chocolate bars, cheesecake and – breakfast cereal?

“Really, Sam?” She asked, looking at the jumbo-sized box.

“Shut up, I really love Starfruit Toast Crunch. And Mom never lets us have any at home.”

She sighed. “You’re not buying a jumbo-size box of breakfast cereal. This is plenty of food, already.”

Sam pouted.

“Also, why an entire cheesecake?” she added, frowning. “We were going to eat this stuff on the way to Elliott’s cabin, remember?”

“Let’s do that tomorrow.” Sebastian suggested, yawning. “I’m hungry. Let’s go play some Junimo cart or something.”

“Fair enough.” Abby agreed. “Okay, we can have the cheesecake. But no cereal, Sam, that’s just excessive. Let’s go to my room. Try not to look high.”

Half an hour later, Abby’s Junimo cart fell to its death, and she turned off the game, yawning. Sam was fast asleep against her bed, a cookie disintegrating next to him in in a cup of Joba Cola, the off-brand soda her father purchased. Dipping cookies in cola was sacrilege to both cookies and cola in Abby’s opinion, but Sam always did have strange tastes. Sebastian was sleeping next to him, head slumped against Sam’s shoulder.

Well, they probably didn’t want to take their turns at Junimo Cart. She ejected the game and popped in a movie instead.

\---

Marlon didn’t head down from the Adventurer’s Guild headquarters very often, but Gil was fast asleep and he was in the mood for company. And maybe some hot food that wasn’t his own cooking. Linus popped by occasionally with fish that he would grill for them, but aside from that they mostly ate bachelor fare.

It was Saturday, and he was in the mood for a pint of beer and one of Gus’s famous meals. It had been far too long since he had been down to the village.

Heading down the stairs towards the square he paused and picked up a folded piece of paper laying on the ground. It had the word Elliott scrawled on it in messy writing. Wasn’t that the new chap who had moved to town? He would just take it with him and see if someone could return it to Elliott.

The Stardrop Saloon was warm and noisy. It was nice to be in the town proper. He hated to leave Gil alone too often – the old guy wasn’t getting around too well these days – but he wished he could spend more time in town.

He looked around as he entered, and immediately noticed Marnie to the left of the door, looking sadly at a mostly-empty glass of beer.

Poor Marnie. She often looked like such an unhappy little thing. If he was only a bit less shy… well, so it was. A pretty young girl like her wouldn’t be interested in a battered old saw like him.

She looked up, meeting his eye, and gave him a warm smile. “Hi, Marlon! Long time no see!”

“Uh. Hi, Marnie.” He walked over to her table. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, the same as always.” She sighed prettily. “The animals keep me so busy! But it’s lovely seeing them so happily that the weather is finally warming up. How about you? I often worry about you two, up on the mountain all by yourselves.”

She worried about them? He gulped. “Oh, it’s good. Um, hey, have you seen the mayor around? I found this piece of paper for that new young chap.”

Her face fell slightly at the mention of the mayor. “Oh, Lewis is just chatting with the farmer about some business – they’re over by the counter.” She peered at the paper. “Oh, this is for Elliott! He lives down by the beach. It’s sort of on the way to my place – I can show you where, if you like?”

Marlon had only been intending to give the paper to the mayor and wash his hands of it, but he wasn’t going to turn down an opportunity to go on a walk with Marnie. “That would be great, thank you.”

She finished her beer, and they left the Stardrop side by side.

\---

Toss. Catch. Toss. Catch.

It was a comforting routine. He was in control of the gridball, if nothing else in his life.

Toss. Catch.

Alex liked to stand outside and think. Sometimes he would repeat the times tables to himself. Sometimes he would daydream about having a real future. Sometimes he would just let the soothing rhythm of the gridball clear his mind.

Toss. Catch. Toss. Catch.

Elliott was walking up past the mayor's house. Probably to visit his grandparents again.

The man made Alex uneasy, for a variety of reasons. First of all was the comfort he clearly had in his own skin - Elliott defied all the rules Alex believed about masculinity, while also walking around like he was some alpha who ruled the world. The hair. That was girl hair. It was long and flowy and looked as soft and well cared for as Haley's did. What kind of man had hair like that?

How could anyone be so unconventional and yet so confident?

Secondly was the way he felt so dumb when Elliott was near. The guy wrote books, for Yoba's sake, ones his grandmother said were lovely. Alex couldn't tell for himself, because even books half the size of the ones Elliott wrote filled him with anxiety.

Thirdly, and worst of all, Elliott made him uneasy because he was undeniably attracted to the lanky writer.

Being gay wasn't the issue. Alex knew he was gay. And he had neatly folded that fact into the back of his mind to be ignored forever because being gay definitely did not fit in with his perception of himself. Being gay was weak, effeminate. Alex wasn't either of those things.

No, the issue was that Elliott didn't let him ignore his feelings. His heart pounded whenever he came near, his throat felt dry every time he heard Elliott speak.

Elliott was approaching the house now. Alex tossed the ball in the air and caught it.

"Hey, Alex." Elliott greeted him, deep voice musical. Alex ignored the fluttering in his stomach.

"Hey."

"Would you like to come on a walk with me?"

Yes. No. "Sure." He dropped the gridball to the ground beside the house.

They walked side by side towards the river, Elliott silent for one of the first times that Alex could remember. The man was always talking, telling stories that made his grandmother laugh and his grandfather crack grudging smiles.

Elliott stopped at the river bank, hands in pockets, and watched the water. Not knowing what else to do, Alex did the same. They stood in silence for a moment, then Elliott turned to him.

"Come here, Alex."

They were already standing close, but Alex couldn't disobey that voice. So he stepped closer, standing face to face with Elliott.

He was over his head - way over his head. This wasn't a situation he was prepared for. So he just stood still, breathing shallowly, while Elliott looked at him.

Elliott slowly reached out and cupped his chin, and Alex's heart felt like it might explode. Why was he moving so slowly? What was he doing?

And then Elliott was kissing him, which definitely was not something he was prepared for, kissing men didn't fit in with his plans at all, but Yoba, it made his knees weak and he felt himself kissing back without even meaning to.

Elliott broke the kiss first, leaning back with his fingers still on Alex's jaw. "I got your note. Darling boy, why do you think I was spending so much time at your house, if not to see you?"

Alex blinked in confusion. His head felt fuzzy; this was all too much at once. "My note?"

Elliott let go of his face, fingers sliding down his jaw, and pulled a piece of lined paper from his pocket and handed it to Alex.

Elliott was scrawled across it. Unfolding it, there were lines and lines of writing - a messy scrawl, but not his - and at the bottom was his name.

"This... this wasn't me." He said, confused. "I didn't write this."

Elliott's eyebrows shot up, and he lost the confident look on his face. "You didn't?"

Alex shook his head.

"Someone had a funny idea of a prank, then."

They stood in silence for a moment. And then Elliott said, quietly, tentatively, "You kissed me back, though."

Alex looked at the ground, face burning, and Elliott's fingers found his jaw again.

"Can I kiss you again, Alex?" he asked gently.

He didn't want to be gay, he didn’t. He didn’t want to say no to Elliott, either, though. What was worse – denying himself this, or not denying his sexuality?

The soft look in Elliott’s eyes made up his mind.

So he nodded, and Elliott's lips found his again.

\---

"I hate this stupid event." Sebastian groaned, handing the joint to Abigail.

The trio stood in the trees off the path that led to the clearing used for the Flower Dance.

"At least you don't have to wear a fucking white dress." Abigail replied grouchily. She took a deep drag. "This is humiliating."

Sam smirked at them. "I'm having a great time. So excited for that buffet!"

"Shut up, asshole." Sebastian glared at him. "Abby, I wish you were hotter so the farmer would have danced with you instead of Penny."

"Fuck off." Abigail swatted at him. "You're lucky I'm willing to dance with a goof like you. You know they were threatening to put Maru with you before I stepped up."

Sebastian opened his mouth to reply, then stiffened. "Shut up, guys," he hissed, "Look!"

The other two followed his gaze through the trees.

It was Alex and Elliott, walking slowly down the path. They stopped a few yards before the bridge that led to the clearing, and Elliott said something to Alex, making him blush. The pair looked around - neither of them noticing the three stoners gawking at them in the trees - and then Elliott leaned forward and kissed Alex on the lips.

The trio stayed quiet until they passed, and then Sam passed the joint over to Sebastian and whispered, "What the heck?"

"Guess it's a good thing we never gave Elliott that poem, hey?" Abigail said, watching the couple retreat. "We wouldn't have fooled anyone."

"Yeah." Sebastian shook his head. "Dang. That's a coincidence alright."

Abigail dropped the roach on the ground and stepped on it. "Come on, guys. Let's get this stupid dance over with."

Sam lingered behind as his two friends lined up to dance. He was excluded from the dancing this year, his partner stolen by the new farmer. Not that he minded - he was never much of a dancer. And Penny looked very happy to be dancing with an admirer.

He leaned against a tree at the edge of the clearing to watch, holding a plate full of buffet goodies. He wasn’t much for dancing, but he did enjoy the music and all the flowers Evelyn arranged. With the right person, it could be a romantic event.

“Hey.” Said a soft voice to his left, and Sam jumped. Peeking around the tree he was leaning against, he could see Marlon and Marnie standing together in the trees.

“Hey.” Marlon replied, rosy-cheeked. “It’s a lovely event, isn’t it? I’m so glad I came down.”

“Me too.” Marnie had fairly rosy cheeks, herself. “It’s nice to see you again. I, ah, I really enjoyed our walk the other day.”

“I really enjoyed it, too.” Marlon scuffed a shoe. “Marnie… would you like to dance with me?” 

She blushed. “Me?”

“If you want to.” He looked nervous. “I mean, I’m not the best dancer, but the music is lovely…”

“I would love to.” Marnie looked at the ground.

Marlon stepped forward and carefully put his hands on her round waist. She put her hands on his shoulders and they began to sway to the music together.

“You’re lovely too, Marnie.” Marlon said, and she smiled up at him.

Well, it was a good thing they hadn’t gone with Abigail’s dumb plan of introducing those two, either. Really, was there anything left to do in this village?

Messing with people’s relationships was clearly a dumb idea. Better to stick with classic pranks. After all, the Luau was coming up and he had noticed some cans of pickled herring in the back room at Joja Mart.

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently "bong hoot" is not a universally used term? I don't know if it's coastal, or Canadian (it's the kind of word we would make up, I'll admit) or what. Anyways, it means "bong hit", for the uninitiated or those who can't understand Canadian. ;)
> 
> Poem is the first and last stanzas of Choice by Angela Morgan
> 
> Also shout out to the amazing fic The Wind That Cuts the Night for making Alex/Elliott such an amazing pairing.


End file.
